Work Text:
Let's start this story with a hypothesis. Hypothetically, let's say someone whose name may or may not be Jamil has a second secret Magicam account to check the rumors the NRC students spread – for work purposes, obviously. Now, let's add that this hypothetical someone whose name is maybe not even Jamil at all, comes across a certain subset of users who, while hiding behind locked accounts and code words think he and his master are in a relationship. What should he do then? The answer is, of course, to rectify things as best as he can.
Now, let's put an end to this hypothesis and come to the facts – our subject may have done so in the worst possible way.
* * *
The whole affair starts like this: after putting Kalim to bed and showering, Jamil prepares tomorrow's schedule with as many details as he can, anticipates future problems – what if Kalim hurts himself during flight lessons? and other fun questions that make him bury his face in his hands and groan – and finally, he crashes on his bed. Though, he's not actually sleepy as the only thing his mind wants is to unwind for a bit after work before drifting into slumber. One of his habits at this hour is to scroll through Magicam mindlessly, simply letting the flow of pictures and texts slide over him like running water while his roommate snores in the background.
Cater uploaded a new selfie with Lilia and Kalim a few hours ago – Jamil saves it mechanically. Ace is complaining about his roommates, knowing full well they can see his post. Floyd is doing… whatever Floyd does which involves swimming in one of the Lounge's aquariums. It's a comfortable routine that lets Jamil go through the motions on autopilot. In a few minutes, he'll put his phone aside, forget about what he just saw, and fall asleep. There's still something he needs to check though. He taps on his profile picture and changes accounts with a swipe of the thumb.
It's something he started to do after becoming Scarabia's vice dorm leader – pretend to be someone else and spy– no, check what the NRC rumor mill is saying that day. The thing is he came to find out a few months earlier that he's actually blocked by lots of people and if at first, he thought it was simply because his milquetoast posts (almost only pictures and very few words) offended them – not that he cares if that's the case – he soon learned that the reason was even simpler. Simply put, some students – because the only accounts he looked at are fellow NRC goers' – just don't want him to see what they're talking about. For the sake of Kalim's reputation – what if someone spreads unfounded rumors, and it reaches his family's ears? That's a matter of life or death clearly – he took it upon himself to investigate that part of Magicam… Which nowadays means he created an account not connected to his name and through hopping from one locked account to the other, he created a web of connections across the “underground” part of the NRC Magicam population. (It's probably extensive enough that even Azul would be jealous.)
Reality is much more boring than hypotheses and other fantasies though. It seems most people are interested in gushing about their favorite series, and the characters they like by the bias of risqué bouts of writing or drawing than spread rumors. The more he scrolls, the more he feels himself drifting, and he decides that it's finally time to stop when his thumb accidentally taps on an account reposted by someone he follows. It happens. No big deal… Except that the account's banner catches his eye.
It's Kalim. Rather, it's a drawing of Kalim – a pretty well-done one even – and an alarm bell rings inside his head. He's been negligent. That's the exact type of person he's supposed to be trailing with this account, and yet he's been unaware of it for some time – a glance at the profile indicates it's been created shortly after the beginning of the year. All at once, his body tenses. Only one word comes to mind – stalker. Who else but a stalker would stare at someone for so long that they'd be able to draw it that well? And even make it their banner on social media where everyone can see?
All thoughts about falling asleep forgotten, he scrolls through the account carefully. The first few posts are nothing to write home about – what they ate, what spells did they fail at today – but Jamil perseveres. The most dangerous people hide under a veil of normality, pretending to be upstanding members of society while they break its every rule. He's proven right only a few seconds later when he comes across a strange image post. The caption simply reads “🐍☀️”, whatever that means, and two embedded, spoilered images. The alarm rings in the back of his head again, warning him that it's something worth reading to investigate… And so he does. The alarm is right. It's about Kalim. It's about Kalim alright. No doubts about it. The only problem is that it's not only about Kalim but also about him and yet the one thing that bothers him the most is–
“Kalim would never say that!”
* * *
“Now do you understand what I mean?”
“Psychic damage's all I got fr.”
Jamil sighs. “Idia-senpai, it's very serious.”
Yes, it's a matter of the utmost importance. And as much as he dislikes admitting it, what Jamil discovered last night is outside his expertise – that's why he's here, cornering Idia after his club activities to talk. There are very few people he can consult anyway when it comes to something seemingly so rooted in online spaces. So Idia it is, even if his senior looks like he's regretting the day he talked to him for the first time.
“Should I go over it again?”
“Kill me instead,” Idia says in a pitifully weak voice.
It barely reaches Jamil's ears who ignores it completely and launches back into his explanation. It's a shame Idia doesn't seem to understand how precarious the whole situation is.
“These stories aren't right.”
“Heard that already.”
“In the first place, Kalim would never elope, the only thing he's serious about is his family,” Jamil explains, “he'd choose duties over his personal happiness.”
“…”
“And this one about him being a child and doted on… Should I call the police? Or maybe,” his voice drops an octave then, “deal with them myself… Kalim was a cute kid, so I'm used to this.”
“What’s that, a 'Kalim-shi maji tenshi' declaration?”
Brushing off the words he doesn't understand, Jamil continues “And this story about Kalim wearing a maid dress… Even if he does everything asked of him, he'd refuse this. In the first place, why is he a girl here?!”
“What a pain…”
“There are too many of these stories where he gets hypnotized to do shameless things. Why do they think Snake Whisper could be used that way or that Kalim wouldn't snap out of it?”
“It's an ero doujin power–”
“Did you say something?”
“N-no, forget about it…”
Sighing, Jamil turns his eyes to his phone. All the tabs open in his browser were opened last night - perhaps he spent more time than he'd willingly admit scrolling through these stories. There's nothing good about them - actually, they're all wrong, all off. Some are better written than others, yes, but that doesn't change the fact none of them understands Kalim as he does. Obviously - he knows Kalim better than anyone else.
“Here you see,” he says, holding his phone screen toward Idia, “Kalim's eye color is described as ruby, but garnet is a better stone to use as a comparison. Anyone who's looked at him for more than a second can see that.”
Idia doesn't even look at him anymore, instead watching outside the window, as if longing to go outside - a first from him - far, far away from Jamil. He's not done yet though.
“And another thing–”
With Jamil's long, long explanation winding down, Idia sighs. “Jamil-dono, you're the type to go ‘my fave is too OOC, learn to write’ in people’s comment sections, yeah?”
“I don't want to interact with the people who write or draw that kind of stuff.”
Pretending to understand Idia's words, Jamil huffs.
“Aaah… If you hate this that much, write your own… Jk don't–”
“That's a great idea.”
“Wha–”
“Thanks Idia-senpai.”
Watching Jamil sprint off in the distance, Idia doesn't even try reasoning him. Whatever. He's better than most, but it's obvious he's a normie who doesn't understand otaku culture anyway, he'll give up soon. The real question is why didn't he even question the fact he's always Kalim's partner? Ugh, go explode already, dumbass couple.
* * *
Thing is, Jamil is persistent - the phrase “giving up” has been erased from his vocabulary after his overblot.
To begin with, he doesn't intend to post anything he'll write. Not because he doesn't have confidence in his prose or storytelling skills but simply because it'd be like letting others see parts of Kalim too subtle for normal people to notice. To write a story about Kalim means giving a shape to all the thoughts he let fester inside his heart, good (maybe) and bad (definitely). There are things he doesn't care to examine at the moment.
At least, while what these students wrote is in pretty bad taste (“A room you can't get out of unless you ×××”? A bunny girl Kalim? Pure, undiluted idiocy and teenage yearning), he'll admit they did good by pairing him with Jamil. He doesn't like them being treated as a set, but it's better than letting anyone else approach Kalim - rather, he'll simply block people who write things like that. The only one who can draw every emotion - sadness, anger, the smallest happiness - out of Kalim is him of course, that's just normal. They're childhood friends who've been through and thin.
He starts slow. In a notebook, he scribbles a few key points. An anecdote from their childhood that seems important, a habit Kalim has, what clothes he prefers wearing… With every word he writes, the Kalim who lives inside him appears a little more tangible, a little closer to the real one. But it's far from enough. It's nothing but a pale imitation of his master, a being that doesn't feel quite right, an existence that doesn't fit in with the idea he has of Kalim. So he continues. What he likes eating. The school subjects he's good at. An embarrassing misunderstanding that happened two weeks ago.
Just like this, the pages of the notebook are covered in black ink, but an auspicious one this time. It's still not enough though. With a frustrated sigh, he holds his head in his hands. He's confident he knows Kalim through and through, but something escapes him.
That night, he scrolls through Magicam with his hidden account instead of his public one for no reason in particular.
* * *
Observation time it is. During one of their shared classes, he directs his gaze at Kalim instead of the professor - he listens (not really) but he doesn't watch. To understand what the image of Kalim he's created is missing, he focuses all his attention on his master.
How he holds his pencil, a more elegant hold than some would expect of him. The way the light coming from the window behind them makes his earrings shine, the golden reflections covering his tan skin. The little crunch between his eyebrows when he doesn't understand something (which is often). His lips parting open at regular intervals - Jamil can read the silent words, a childish “Wow, that's interesting”.
(Jamil stopped following the lesson a little after Kalim yawned, sleepily rubbing his eyes with his sleeve - how many times did he tell him to stop that?)
Then, Kalim turns toward him, the tip of his ears tinged with pink, and puffing his cheeks.
“Hey, do I have something on my face?” He whispers - it's still loud though - so the professor can't hear him. “You've been staring for a while.”
And Jamil, who's trying to find inspiration for a story, Jamil, whose inner Kalim is still a little off, Jamil, who's supposed to be a smooth talker, stays silent. No, it's not a conscious decision, it's more that he can't talk. His heart beats a little too fast, his mouth is a little too dry, and when Kalim leans toward him with questions in his eyes, his face grows a little too hot.
No story could have prepared him for this.